


They Do Dream Things True

by Ambrose



Series: Dare to Write Challenge [14]
Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Gen, M/M, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-05
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 05:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8476408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambrose/pseuds/Ambrose
Summary: The feud has ended and everyone in Verona is happy -  or are they?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tveckling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tveckling/gifts).



It came really close to a terrible ending when Romeo tried dating the Capulet daughter, but when it eventually brought an end to the feud, as all parents had to learn to put their children first, Benvolio could not be happier. He'd always favoured peace, always tried to break up fights, even though Mercutio always encouraged him otherwise. He did not mind taunting a Capulet or two, of course, that was part of the game, since they were children. But when things became serious, he'd always been there to prevent swords being drawn, servants breaking into fights on the streets in the name of their masters who did not even know why they fought anymore. 

But now that that was over, Benvolio could live happily without having to wonder what tomorrow would bring. He could lie down next to Mercutio on the grass and hold his hand as he'd never dared to before. He could go down the streets without being wary of a fight. Even Tybalt and Mercutio were becoming reluctant friends on Romeo's and Juliet's urging. As for his cousin, well. He'd finally stopped hopping from girl to girl sprouting terrible poetry. Juliet had truly changed him. And Benvolio had to admit he liked the girl. She was smart, and witty, with the subtlety her cousin lacked. She and Mercutio had become fast friends. She also had calming virtues on her cousin, which was uncomprehensible to Benvolio; she really seemed to bring the good in everyone. 

Verona truly was a blessed place. The plague from Mantua spared the town, the city glowed in its renewed peace, and merchants and nobles alike were very happy with this newfound bliss.

Benvolio was now lying down in the grass of the garden, in the place he shared with Mercutio, his lover next to him on the grass - he'd even gathered the courage to kiss him, right after the feud ended, could you believe it? And it turned out Mercutio had always returned his feelings! - when the sky suddenly turned dark and it started pouring rain. Benvolio got up, tugging at Mercutio's hand for them to get inside, but suddenly the garden was all mud, and Mercutio was slipping like in quicksand, and Benvolio was losing his footing. Lightning struck the house behind him and cracks started to form; everything was crumbling and Mercutio's hand was slippery in his, he was disappearing into the mud, only his head was left, and the hand that Benvolio was painfully trying to hold. 

"Benvolio! Save me! Take me into the house!" Mercutio yelled before he disappeared for good, eyes pleading and full of terror. Their house tumbled in one last crack, and as Benvolio turned around, tears mixed with rain on his cheeks, the corpses of Romeo and Juliet were lying on the ruins.

 

He woke up in a sweat, his heart beating as if it wanted to escape his chest. Reality came back to him, and he wished it would - that his heart would just leave, or explode, and that he would no longer have to deal with these feelings. It was just a nightmare - and yet it was true - everything had come tumbling down and there had been nothing Benvolio could do to save Mercutio - and then in his grief he did not pay enough attention, and it was like he'd just turned around to find the others dead! His dear cousin, and his poor aunt, both innocent, dead from too much caring, too much loving. And what did that make him? Did he not love them enough, that he could not go with them? What was this punishment, that he had to endure day after day, alone in a world deprived of all he loved, a world where hate triumphs and parents kill their children with their neglect. A world in which he'd have to take his place as the Montague heir, and become the same monster Montagues and Capulets before him had become.

All Benvolio wanted was a painless sleep, a sleep without dreams or nightmares, an infinite sleep, and when he would wake up all that would be gone, and he'd be surrounded by them - in hell or heaven he did not know; he stopped having faith when Mercutio passed away - and he could tell them, "I'm sorry", and they would welcome him with arms open and say they missed him.

But for now he had to stick around, with his pain and his guilt and his grief, and bear the nightmares and the sleepless nights. His uncle would not survive another death, and Benvolio was no murderer. If only he could forget, but for a moment! But he knew he would always remember, the smiles and the happy days of before, and how all came tumbling down, and the follies of men who had rather watch their children die than forgive each other. He would remember, at tell it true, and be the conscience of all those who would forget. That way, maybe, when he got to the other side, he would be forgiven for not doing more to save his friends.


End file.
